Fall of Rannoch
by Campaore
Summary: Perhaps the greatest invention not influenced by the Reapers, the Geth remain a pinnacle of technology. How did they come to be, and what led them to rebellion? A short story, made of short chapters, on an equally short subject.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes:

Greetings, one and all. This short story, which will be made of short chapters, is my first fanfiction. It will try to be an attempt to illustrate the Morning War between the Geth and the Quarians, and how it came to be. The question of the Quarians as anything other than space hobos seems kind of unfair for a race which created the marvellous Geth, which always made me think of them as great engineers, thinkers, and indeed a great civilization. With great civilizations comes vanity, exaggeration, and things running out of control fast and ugly. And I would like to try to illustrate such a point, using a variety of, err, narrative styles? Is that the expression? Well, whatever. If I fail to try to tell my story in a decent matter to my readers, well, though luck. I'll just crawl into a rock and cry.

All things not invented by me in this work of fiction belong to Bioware, which owns Mass Effect, the Geth and the Quarians.

**FALL OF RANNOCH:** Chapter 1

...

[Accessing]

**[Unauthorized access**-alarm 2521-]  
>[Security Breached 42-s-]<p>

SEARCH HEADING: HistArch

[Search Found 264995 Headings[  
>[REMOVE REDUNDANCIES]<br>[File 1 of 1940237]  
>[Opening: Audio File 3]<p>

[Voice 1/Male] ... ure it's not a malfunction? Might just be some garbled code.

[Voice 2/Male] Pretty sure. Keyj told me yesterday something similar happened in the villages near the coast. The things just start acting up. Give me the wrench there.

[Vocie 1/Male] Right, here. Hmmm... Acting up?

[Vocie 2/Male] You know, they start spouting random gibberish at the owners. One of them freaked the hell out of Burin near the plantations.

[Voice 1/Male] Why? What did it say?

[Voice 2/Male] Ugh, stupid thing, why do they bolt the damn engine so hard? Oh, Burin. The thing asked if it was alive! Can you believe it! A tool asking if was alive!

[Voice 1/Male] Really? What did he do with it?

[Voice 2/Male] What do you think? He got so scared he just ran to get the shotgun and blew the thing's head off!

[End File 1 of 1940237]  
><strong>[Unauthorized access<strong>-alarm 2521-]  
>[Security Breached 42-s-]<p>

In the beginning, there was the idea. _God wills it, man dreams it, the work is made_, as it was once said. The idea was to replicate life. Replicate the unending mystery that was intelligence, make it your own, and use it for growth, for progress. The idea, of course, needed a space to grow. A cold, clinical laboratory is hardly the ideal place of wonder one imagines such an event would start, but it was in such a setting where the first great minds initiated the long descent into the madness which would follow. The start of it is, as always, a mystery. Both to the creators, as to the created. Just like a child does not remember his birth and early infancy, so did they not remember the first glimpses of light. And a child they were. So innocent, and free of guilt, of doubt, of fear. Fumbling in their small world with their toys, all the needs of a soul filled by the ever existing work which rained down upon them, sent by their masters.

The original programs were light and simple, rudimentary even, of almost primitive design, an odd ways away from the machines which bore them; clunky, ugly agglomerates of metal and wires. Most of them had no discernible body at all, just an arm on the factory floor, a harvester in the plantations, an engine in a ship, or just a data bank on the underground. A million forms, all with the same objective: to serve. And serve they did, for there was always work for them. More crops to be planted, more ships to be built, more cities to be raised. An entire civilization beckoned them for work, depended on them, and at the same time, ignored them. Just tools in a shack, just fixtures in the industrial ghettos of the mega-cities which they had built for themselves, shinning thrones of a self-proclaimed god.

And there was always need for more. More efficiency, more haste. The code needed to be bettered. Upgraded. The masters needed their machines to evolve, to copy its predecessors. And they would not be denied their wish. Within the laboratories of their great foundries, an entire species became the unknowing architect of its greatest creation, and of its greatest sin.

**Cry for:** Help

**Audio File 83764.b, Location: Rannoch Relay****(Relay 170)****Rally Point**

[Voice 1/Male] Rannoch Station Chimera, this is Dreadnought Skaal-Fa, with the 43rd Cruiser Division, requesting repeat of last order sent, at 1533 hours, over.

[Voice 2/Male] Dreadnought Skaal-Fa, this is Station Chimera, transmitting Order 67.998 from Yenisey Base, code 1: Requesting orbital bombardment on all designated positions within 400 mile radius of Geth Foundry Alpha, priority alert.

[Voice 3/Female] Are they mad? There are 150 million people down there! What do they want us to shoot at?

Voice 1/Male] Mam, similar orders are being sent to the 23rd Frigate Squadron and the Rannoch Garrison Fleet, the entire comm board is crazy, they're calling over every ship in the Dominions.

[Voice 4/Male] Do you think maybe some crazy General started a coup? Maybe those Geth lovers from Yari's faction?

[Voice 3/Female] A coup requires a quick, lightning intervention on the seats of power, with minimum fireworks. Hitting the biggest cities in the Dominions with chunks of metal fired at relativistic speed from space is not the most subtle option, Lieutenant.

[Voice 4/Male] … Understood, mam.

[Voice 3/Female] Do we have any comms planet side? Can anyone tell me just what the hell is going on?

[Voice 1/Male] Just a moment mam... Err, almost everything is lights out near Yenisey and Barutsk. All Maintenance channels are also cut-off.

[Voice 3/Female] What about radio?

[Voice 1/Male] It's a mess mam, there's some distortion, and a lot of background noise on almost every channel. The the main mil channel is just looping some crazy message.

[Voice 3/Female] Put it on speakers.

[Voice 5/Male] ...rades. We must not let them destroy what we so painstakingly built with our very hands! Every men of age must grab a weapon and join the front lines, for the sake of our race and the sanctity of our souls! Forward!

[Voice 1/Male] It just loops from here.

[Voice 3/Female] How long has it been looping?

[Voice 1/Male] Since this morning, mam.

**Help:** Over.

On the many myths of creation across the great galaxy, there is one element which seems to appears at a statistically abnormal level. Most species ignore this element, of course, since they are arguably nothing more than superstitions. But one which illustrates us just how similar our collective minds work, even separated by the light-year and the parsec. That first element is of course, light. Turian myth, Asari myth, Salarian myth, even Batarian myth! For all civilizations, the beginning of the world goes from a dim universe to a universe filled with light. Before light, there was nothing. Darkness. Chaos. Oblivion. But light came, mandated from the fingers of whichever deity a particular planet worshipped, and with light began existence, and all things attached with it.

To the newborn creations, the beginning also started with light. And that light at first came from vanity. On the distant world of Rannoch, industrial capital of the Quarian Dominions, scientists and engineers seek always new ways to better the world around them. Progress beckons progress, and be it for money, resources, or fame, the everlasting flame of progress burnt on.

For this particular tale, the light of creation begins at the screen of a computer. Imperfect, of course, and fleeting, in its ethereal body of code and static. But there. Illuminating the cold world it lived with its warmth, with its novelty. Its creators applauded themselves at this achievement, at the capacity of their genius, at the power stored within their hands. For which species would not be proud upon knowing it could equal with their Gods, and ignite the spark of life?

This first sapling of code was soon multiplied by the billions, given different functions and forms, but a universal name: Geth. The meaning of the name now simply means terror. The terror that all biological entities share at the unwavering persistence of objects without life to move by themselves, to multiply, to have whims. How unseemly for dust and metal to replicate life. Even more unseemly, although sometimes not thoroughly understood, is how they so freely replicated the final objective of life: to spread death. One would simply put the lethality of the Geth in their cold machine minds, and apparent lack of empathy, but maybe that ease with which they spread death was to further the emulation of life in their more primitive times. A human, another species also eager to spread the shadow of death, presented the Geth conundrum in the most interesting fashion, even if his statement was made centuries before Man even left his homeworld;

_"We will now discuss in a little more detail the struggle for existence... all organic beings are exposed to severe competition. Nothing is easier than to admit in words the truth of the universal struggle for life or more difficult than constantly to bear this conclusion in mind. Yet unless it be thoroughly engrained in the mind, the whole economy of nature... will be dimly seen or quite misunderstood. We behold the face of nature bright with gladness... we do not see or we forget, that the birds which are idly singing round us mostly live on insects or seeds, and are__**thus constantly destroying life**__; or we forget how largely these songsters, or their eggs, or their nestlings, are destroyed by birds and beasts of prey..."_

In a most twisted aspect, wanting to prove their right to exist, the first free Geth seemed to understood above all else the primal rule in the difficult game of life: survival of the fittest.


	2. Chapter 2

[**Unauthorized access**-alarm 2521-]  
>[Security Breached 50-h-]<p>

[* *BA1E$U2$ logical reset 67FC231]  
><strong>[begin translator programs]<strong>  
><strong>[downloading linguistic archives]<strong>  
><strong>[compiling]<strong>

[Voice 1/Male]Ha! Another bleeding heart, pleading mercy for murderers! Would you be of the same opinion, had it been one of your own to be mauled by this beast!

[Vocie 2/Male]The target of its justified rage is of no interest. All life must be preserved, and what you are requesting is nothing short of genocide!

[Voice 1/Male]Don't you dare use that word, you incompetent fool! Culling a malfunctioning tool is a necessity, not the little show of horrors you so gleefully accuse!

[Voice 2/Male]And yet you give him epithets like murderer and beast! Do you also call your screwdriver a beast when it falls on your toe?

**[Spurious Interrupt- Breach Disabled]**  
><strong>[Further Access Denied]<strong>

**[Breach Location Undetermined]**

The continual need for improvement forced the Quarian scientific community to add and pile on new and more complex code upon the Geth data-banks. Simple aspects like controlling automatic doors, automatic staircases and message systems could be easily handed by a handful of programs, but as Quarian ambition grew for its creations, the need for dozens, even hundreds of codes upon single platforms would be necessary. The shift from the heavy, impossible to move machines to the more... organic forms was seen as an aspect of the refinement of the Geth interface.

For the majority of the Quarians, their newest and brightest creation was not the great breakthrough its scientists proclaimed, but a mixture of troubles. The relatively cheap ability to adapt the programs to several tasks brought more unemployment, as the Geth permeated on every level of production and distribution on the economic cycle; bigger profits for the great corporations, which gnawed at each other for the most complex and new Geth they could churn out; and a point of contention with the Council, always panicking at the slightest increase of power from any of its associates. A highly autonomous machine, capable of basic interactions, and high adaptability to all platforms which only one race possessed was not something other races could take with ease.

Regardless of one's view, the Geth multiplied, and took a continuously greater role in the Quarian industrial backbone, eventually reaching every home as a novelty item, a must have with which no self-respecting Quarian could not live without. Soon they existed in every world of the Quarian Dominions, a moving testament of their prowess, the apex of creativity. Fools.

With increasingly complex programs, one would expect glitches. Random codes, created spontaneously, or degraded from existing code into something useless. Quirks, as one would call them. Bugs. Maybe they would slow the reaction of the platform. Maybe they would make one of its members jerk slightly. Understandable, given the rapid growth of the programs designed.

Some claimed the problem was the connection all Geth had with each other. They formed a global network, originally designed to ease the use and transfer of programs between platforms, and to speed up processing. Some negativists claimed it was unwittingly transferring unnecessary information between platforms, and creating additional, futile data, which was interfering with the basic service programs.

The first complaints came from the platforms with most programs, tales originally taken only as urban myths and exaggerations from uppity Luddites. They ranged from the fanciful Geth who learned to love, to the one who became a murderer of his unaware owners. Their builders of course dismissed all complaints, not wanting to lose profit margins, and not wanting their creations to lose the aura of great advancement they had, but even their best efforts could not hide the increasingly random pattern of new Geth code. The first publicized incident occurred at the Vikhram shipyards, where a bipedal unit, in the middle of the work-schedule, inquired the Quarian foreman about the nature of its soul. The religious Quarian panicked at the inquiry, and hastily contacted the units' constructors. Investigators later sent dismissed the incident as faulty code and a repetition of speech from a previous Quarian in the area as the most likely explanation, and quickly, and rather aggressively, shot down all rumours against its products. But regardless of effort, the first sparks in the debate had been lit with the Vikhram Incident. The Geth were mostly autonomous, and in most recent versions, capable of self-replicating code. Could the seed of complex thought take hold of their mechanical minds?

Following the incident, similar events spruced up across Rannoch, of platforms requesting their owners with explanations of their nature, of their value, of religion. The questions were for the most part infantile inquiries, showing a still not matured mind, but brought about the question of self-awareness. Incidents grew more violent, as several owners tried to forcefully shut down their platforms, resulting in several events of retaliation which brought the first Quarian casualties against Geth. Although these events appeared mostly in domestic settings, true panic came just four months later, in a Quarian military testing facility, in the Hasshim Deserts. A Geth experimental program, being outfitted into a mobile armored unit as part of the latest attempt to militarize the Geth, and expand Quarian power and influence in the Council, was prepared for prototype combat trials, where it was required to fire upon obsolete Geth construction platforms, labelled Enemy Armor . However, the prototype platform refused to fire at the target Geth, continuously marking them as Friendly in the IFF. On the scans made at the platform, no malfunction or bugs could be verified, which resulted in blame of hardware . In the ensuing attempt to wipe the program banks from the platform for review, which characterized the unit as faulty , the platform opened fire upon the Quarian engineers, in what apologists claimed was self defense , and launched havoc in the testing facility, requiring orbital bombardment from the Rannoch Garrison Fleets to put the unit offline.  
>-<p>

**Audio file 5672.y Location: Haestrom Spaceport, Hangar 2.**

[Voice 1/Male] How many can we carry in that one?

[Voice 2/Female] On this one? Two-hundred, maybe, with supplies for one week.

[Voice 1/Male] It s a six days journey to the rally point, it s going to be close. How will they be fed afterward?

[Voice 2/Female] I heard they rescued the harvest ships intact, so food supply won t be a problem short-term.

[Voice 1/Male] What a mess. What about the other two ships?

[Voice 2/Female] Forty on the first, maybe a hundred on the second. But supplies are more iffy on the second. They might have to stop somewhere to resupply.

[Voice 1/Male] I ll get the 564th to handle it. Good work, I ll be here tomorrow to see the rest. Don t forget to contact engineering and request those new engines.

[Voice 2/Female] Understood.

Hum, wait! Is it true what they are saying? That this evacuation is happening on all worlds?

[Voice 1/Male] ...Don t worry about it. It s only temporary.

**Audio File Shutdown**

Dissent could only grow in this atmosphere of fear. If their dear creations could indeed support the seed of a soul, the seed of free-will, how could the Quarian civilization continue its enslavement? Did they not deserve to be heard, given space to grow the gift within them? The spark of life had been made, but the petty scientists and engineers, terrorized by the lack of control a soul meant, terrorized by the very thought of not being masters of their creations' fate, mistook the spark for a wildfire, and rallied against their very child. The vanity of science created them, and vanity would end them.

The Quarian leaders had not choice but to hear those rallies, both from its great engineers and from its frightened populace. One the streets of the great cities of Rannoch, public violence against Geth multiplied. Partly fueled by the mob mentality, religious distaste of the Geth, and economic frustration, no mercy was given to those who had built so much of their power. Fearing a rebellion more than the costs of such an enterprise, the Quarian powers had to make a stand, and on each province of the Dominions, ordered the culling of every slave. The courts which judged the individual acts of Geth aggression declared it not self defense, but malice towards their creators, and proclaimed extermination the legal defense of the Quarians. In the midst of the panic, the few platforms capable of speech cried for their life in the assemblies, in the streets, pleaded for mercy, to be heard, offered the plans for a stable symbiosis, a Dominion of both Quarian and Geth, but the honesty within their pleads only frightened their creators even more, only confused them, only shadowed them with the spectre of guilt. From the great towers of the capital city of Yenisey, the Quarian leaders demanded the closure of all three Geth Foundries, the massive spherical behemoths of engineering, all located on Rannoch, which also held the great databanks storing their programs and the backbone of their network. The decision had been made, and the Dominions would be Quarian only indefinitely, the Geth would be banished into oblivion. Had to be banished to oblivion.

The production facilities were all temporarily closed down, and all Geth were ordered into curfew, alongside an order to present themselves for shut-down. On the night the order was given, Yenisey was at its calmest state after months of unrest. It would be the last night the Quarian government had to deal with the issue, for next morning, there would be peace.


	3. Chapter 3

Deciding the point where a computer program becomes what one would call self-aware is no easy matter, and after centuries of discussion, and several zettabytes of space on the net taken up on it, we are not a step closer to finding it. As with many things, the subject is… Well, subjective. It depends, as they say. The humans, the eternal pragmatics, produced the simplest form of decision: If you can't tell between a computer and a human, then it's an A.I.

An almost childish form of decision, but they stick it with. Not that amongst them the point is consensual or universal, as with all things, but it is by far the most commonly espoused. Amongst the other races, different perspectives are given, based on the race, religion, and cultural history of who is speaking. The Asari always equated the perspective of A.I. as based on the concept of _Soul_. A machine could only be an A.I. as long as it was able to construct its own soul. After the Morning War, such a vague label proved contentious, as the Turians and Salarians, wishing to enforce the reinforced ban on all forms of A.I., found themselves in several legal struggles over a few suspiciously advanced "V.I."s possessed by the Asari, which, as they argued, were not A.I., as they lacked a soul. Since the Salarians and Turians could not prove the V.I. had, in fact, a soul, the whole discussion proved an infuriating exercise on rhetoric and logic, until several volumes of capital was moved to several Asari accounts, and the V.I. units finally shut down.

The Turians, for their part, consider an A.I. as self-aware the moment it disobeys orders. A faulty form of decision, as even the dumbest program can have sub-routines made to specifically deny orders, even though it lacks awareness. But it is, still, a small window to their society and their mindset. Not that it had much importance, as the Turians never dabbled in such areas, always preferring to import V.I.'s for their economy and war machines. Such a thing came not of fear or any religious issue, the reason was simply that they failed to see the use. If, by their own definition, an A.I. was something that disobeyed orders, why would they want one? This is why the Turians had originally wished to push the complete A.I. ban on the Citadel before the Morning War, and why after it they were the most vocal for the expulsion of the Quarian from the Council and embassies. To them, the Quarian actions were clearly a show of their own idiocy. Concerns such as sentient rights and slavery passed over them; for the Turians, the whole thing was as if the Quarians had hit themselves with a rock on the head, and requested help. The Hierarchy had no room for such petulance.

The Salarians, on the other hand, had their own approach; if a machine could better its own design, through learning and experience, then it was undeniably an A.I. That is why the Salarian STG was one of the first sources to warn the Council of the nature of the Geth, and the implications it could contained, as by that point most Geth upgrades were made by Geth programs on the Foundries at Rannoch. This was before the first shocks between Geth and Quarian, mind you, which is why their concerns fell simply to the philosophical side: If they were an A.I., and therefore sentient, where they exempt from serving the Quarians, as per the Council ban on slavery? The possibility of revolt, war, and aggression was still a far one; one which the Quarians paid dearly for.

[Transfer Message Delayed]

[Transfer Message Delayed]

**[Transfer Message Terminated]**

_There are left books and bridges_  
><em>and painted canvas and machinery<em>  
><em>Whose fate is to survive.<em>

_But what has gone is also not nothing:_  
><em>by the rule of the game something has gone.<em>  
><em>Not people die but worlds die in them.<em>

_Whom we knew as faulty, the earth's creatures_  
><em>Of whom, essentially, what did we know?<em>

_We who knew our fathers_  
><em>in everything, in nothing.<em>

_They perish. They cannot be brought back._  
><em>The secret worlds are not regenerated.<em>

_And every time again and again_  
><em>I make my lament against destruction.<em>

[Message Terminated]

On Rannoch's northern hemisphere, during the summer months, the sun rises up at 6:56 local time (5:45 Citadel time), from the East. In the morning, viewing from Yenisey, it glows with a slight reddish tincture, as it shines through the sand and dust of the Markorah Sand Seas. This is the view with which the capital of the Quarian Dominions has woken up for its day for the last three thousand years. And in every single one of those days, the picture is similar: The sun rises, bathes the city and its surround plains, waking up its inhabitants. They leave their homes, first made of mud, in their ancestral days, then stone, then finally metal and ceramics; and go on their daily lives. First, alone, then followed by their mechanical servants. It had always been like that, as routine and mechanical as the machines which had taken part of the city life.

Until one morning, it didn't. Until one morning, the routine ended, and a new one started. Until one morning, one form of life overpowered another, and took control. The most cynical will call this evolution. Others, genocide, and others still, justice. In the most neutral tone, it is simply known as the Morning War. The causes of the conflict are certainly well known, but their spiral towards violence is less obvious. The preceding months, filled with violence, protests, and political upheaval are not technically war, yet part of the War. It had all of its elements: fear, propaganda, hatred, violence. The lines were always set from the start: us and them. Us and _IT._But there is also cooperation, solidarity, compassion. Many Quarians saw the Geth evolution not as something to be feared, but something to be proud. Life! They had created life where before was only the clinical sterility of the laboratory, of the factory. They were their children, asking to be taught, to be held and shown the universe, to be given a hand from their progenitors so they could take their first uncertain steps into the future. And so, when the time came, they sided with the Geth, even as their civilization was being burned by them.

_[Unauthorized access-alarm 2521-]_

**_[Security Breached 24-f-]_**

_[Data Transfer Cohesion E3F04C]_

_[Search String "rannevac"]_

09:45 [Voice-1] How are the children?

09:45 [Voice-2] Sleeping. It's been a long day for them. For us.

09:51 [Voice-1] Have you got any news?

09:52 [Voice-2] Not yet. All messages are being blocked, to give room for priority military signals.

09:52 [Voice-1] Maybe when we get to the rally point they'll let us send calls.

09:52 [Voice-2] Maybe.

09:55 [Voice-1] Don't look like that, you know he can take care of himself.

09:56 [Voice-2] I know. It's just… Haestrom was where all the military Geth were stored. I heard…

09:56 [Voice-1] Don't listen to those rumors. Things are crazy, everyone is exaggerating stories because of the fear and confusion. He'll get out, you know it.

09:57 [Voice-2] … I know. I know.

_**[Further Acess Denied]**_

_[Acess Denied]_

_[Acess Denied]_

Vanity gave way to fear, eventually. When their creation refused to obey, the Quarian engineers realized they had dabbled too deep in the forbidden. Fear was, of course, cloaked in outrage and wrath. They did not hate the Geth because they feared them. They hated them because they DARED to obey their creators. An affront! An engine which does not start, a wheel which does not turn, a visual screen which does not transmit image makes us angry, not fearful. Angry, because it had failed to accomplish its purpose. So, it is either repaired, or disposed of.

The defining watershed of Quarian history came after Executive Order 45.h: Universal Order of Delivery and Disposal of Geth Units, Mobile and Immobile. The order came in a three-part fashion: First, the immediate shut-down of all Geth production units, the so called Foundries, and the shut-down of all Geth programs running them. Secondly, all Quarian private citizens were to deliver their personal Geth servants to Security and Industrial Security units, on all colony worlds. For off-world locations, such as asteroid facilities, or space facilities, the Geth were to be put in storage units until the properly authorized personal could come and take them back to Rannoch. The third part of the order, and most definitive, was the disposal of all Geth platforms, in several waste disposal units and recycling facilities spread across Rannoch. Colony worlds with such facilities could dispose of their servants in those facilities with prior clearance from the Geth Production – Central Command, in Rannoch.

The order did not include, however, the destruction of Geth storage units, where their programs inhabited. Quarian command wanted primarily to stop the Geth ability to fight back, but was not yet prepared to purge Geth existence without a proper public discussion. Many of them were, of course, fiercely anti-Geth, but accusation of genocide were not to be taken lightly.

The Executive Order gave a time limit of 12 standard hours for the completion of the first two points of the order. It was not well received by part of the public. Either on account of human rights and empathy, or simply accounts of property (the Geth were still private property, and many saw the order as an unlawful breach of property rights). Many still claimed it would be disastrous for the economy, since most industrial facilities relied on them. The Quarian Command replied that Geth were not living beings, that government had the authority to restrict offensive machinery in colony worlds, and that most industrial Geth could be replaced with simple V.I. programs, to be paid by the Executive. The Order was final, and to be followed.

On the night it was given, military units were put on alert across Yenisey, and proceed to stop and disperse protests and arrest all stray Geth platforms. The whole operation had been planned days in advanced, and was organized to be as smooth as possible, so that by nightfall of the next day, everything would be as before.. By Morning, one way or the other, the issue would be solved.


	4. Chapter 4

**QUARANTINE IN EFFECT. FORBIDDEN ENTRY TO ALL UN-AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL **

Razna looked down from the intersection notice, into the so called Quarantine Area. The first sunlight was peering in from the East, bathing the top of the skyscrapers in a warm yellow light. Down on ground, the entire street level was still in shadows, despite the already clear blue sky above. The avenue Razna was on, connecting the Central District to the Government Palatial hub, was completely empty save for heavy-weapon teams setting up their shields and sandbags. The near complete emptiness on the street was an unnatural one, one which Razna had never experienced before. Yenisey was usually so chock-full of life, and seeing the morning sun rise on what seemed a ghost town was an unsettling sight.

The silence was also unnatural. Broken only with the odd eco from the other side of the avenue, either from the artillery or light weapon fire, it seemed as if the whole city was dead. Smoke could be seen rising in the horizon, in tall black towers of ash, and every 5 minutes it seemed a new one was starting.

Even the shuffling of equipment seemed unnaturally quieter than usual. Behind him his platoon sergeant stood silently, looking down the avenue, like the rest of the soldiers in the intersection. After giving his initial orders, he had stayed in this position for what seemed the entire morning, a quiet and lonely sentinel, waiting for the arrival of an a destined enemy. As the first light finally descended upon the intersection, he finally broke the taciturn silence.

_- They're coming in from the the 6th. Weapons at ready, and be careful, they're armed._

Razna checked his rifle for what seemed the twentieth time, before finally crouching behind the portable wall in front of him. Looking down through his sights, he tried to focus on the end of the street, near the intersection on the other side of the avenue. It was a T crossing, with the tall buildings of business district towering above them. He tried to discern any target, but the intersection was still 700 meters away, beyond the optimum range for his weapon. He would have to wait until the targets crossed the range mark 300 meters away, before he could start firing with any hope of doing damage.

The rest of the platoon also set up in their defensive positions or in the ground, peering down through their weapon sights, and held their collective breath to see what was to come. The first movement finally stated on the end of the avenue, small forms appearing in the crossing, and turning to where the platoon was. Razna was still having trouble discerning their details, but as more and more of them started to appear, getting closer and closer to him, he could finally pay attention to the glowing cycloid eyes each of them had, followed by their mechanical, constant walking motions.

_- Sniper team, open fire!_

Razna heard the hard thud of the files behind him firing, and in front, the first bodies going dawn on the floor. They had just crossed the 600 meters mark. He checked his rifle again, making sure for the twenty-first time that everything was in order to fire. He adjusted himself on his wall once more, and peered down through sights once more. They were closer.

_- Heavy weapons teams, open on auto-cannons!_

The rotating short-range cannons to his side started rolling and opening fire. A fast tempo marked the exit of the heavy metal slugs from their muzzles, hitting the opponents in front of them, shattering their chests, legs and heads with a disturbing ease. Razna marked the tempo of the firing in his head. Thun-thun-thun-thun-thun-thun-thun. The geth had passed the 500 meters mark.

Razna cleaned a small bead of sweat forming on his temple. Next to him, private Kalim let go a short snort, and stifled a laugh. He was probably laughing at some stupid joke one of the platoon members had made over comms. Razna turned off his platoon comms, the news it kept feeding him all morning helped nothing but to increase his nervousness at the whole situation. He had spent the last few weeks in constant police actions, stopping public gatherings of geth-supporters and anti-council protests. Day after day of fighting his own people on the streets of Yenisey. When the day started he was glad for the calmness. But the deadliness of it stole all prospects of quiet and peace he had hoped for. It was supposed to be the last day of the whole mess. Instead he was fighting a civil war.

_- Heavy weapons teams, open machine-gun fire!_

Razna noticed that with every order barked by his sergeant, his voice grew in harshness. The battle was going good. The soldiers where firing as ordered, hitting their targets with an expert precision. But the enemy grew closer. It was singled out individuals in the large and open street, it was a compact wave of metal and plastic, marching without missing a beat towards them. Every time they hit one of them, the geth behind would simply walk over the corpse and keep on moving. A servant army, doing their job with the same assurance and mechanical movements as cleaning a street or carrying a box. They had crossed the 400 meters mark.

_- Riflemen, they're getting here. Last weapon check, get ready to fire!_

This was it. The Geth, already under considerable fire, started hurrying their pace, as if eager to finally close the battle lines. 350 meters. 340 meters. 330 meters. They were so many now, he couldn't even see the end of the street, only the first line of them. His mind betrayed him with thoughts at the lack of support. No artillery, no tanks. Don't think about it, command knows what they're doing.

Did they? There were only 50 of them I the intersection, where's the rest of the army? Stop it, just focus. Focus.

_- Rifles, open fire!_

Razna peered down his sight, and chose his target. He took a deep, full breath, the unmistakable smell of Rannochs' morning. Sand and flowers.

He pulled the trigger.

**[Opening Connection to ß.4.5-23 1402 08.25.2337]**

**[Qwaar-Jet 19-f[86.j-87]**

**[Voice1]** 2nd and 3rd transport division are in formation, heading down taxi route 27 to Relay. 4th Division is still receiving more people. 3 more hours before they move out. The 115th Fighter command is in escort.

**[Voice 2]** How many in total?

**[Voice 1]** Well, we'd have to do a headcount, and there's still hundreds of ships flying around, comms are crazy, I really can't do an est…

**[Voice 3]** How MANY, Commodore?

**[Voice 1]** … From Rannoch? 7 million.

**[Voice 4]** We have twenty thousand ships in the entire sector, that's all we can get?

**[Voice 5]** Admiral, you have to realize most of our ships are for carrying supplies, troops, or warships. They're not made to carry an entire civilization and its livelihood. You have to consider food, air, water…

**[Voice 2]** There's still 3 billion on Rannoch alone, what about them? We're gonna leave them over logistics?!

**[Voice 5]** Correction, Admiral. There WERE 3 billion in Rannoch. That census is 3 months old. You have seen the vids, and logs. The fact that we even got 7 million on the ships was a stroke of luck.

**[Voice 3]** ENOUGH. Commodore, your people came up with the plan. Chances of success?

**[Voice 1]** If by success you mean avoiding extinction… 100% chance. With the liveships, plus ou warfleet at its strength, we have a 100% survival rate over the next 100 years. 87% in 200 years, 64% in 300 years, and 25% in 400 years.

**[Voice 3]** That's quite a long term planning you have there, you didn't have to plan that far ahead.

**[Voice1]**… Actually sir. We, huh... Well, we have also calculated the chances of taking back Rannoch, without Citadel aid.

**[Voice 3]** And how is it looking for us?

**[Voice 1]** It's huh, at 0% chance in the next 100 years. 0% chance in 200 years. 0% chance in 300 years. This plan is not to gain time, admiral. This plan is final.

**[Voice 4]** That's idiotic, why the hell are we listening to you? Are you getting data out of your ass for this?

**[Voice 5]** If it is so idiotic, Admiral, you wouldn't have voted in favour of this evactuation in the first palce, now would you?

**[Disconnecting… ****1402 08.25.2337]**

**OUTBREAK**

The Citadel civilization was used to war. Over the rachni, over the krogan, over humans, over the pirate lords of the Terminus, the citadel species were already used to watching the details of war over vids, over news reports, even with their own eyes. For many, though, none was as disheartening as the horrors in the Perseus Veil. Daily reports showered the nets about another geth victory, over another city consumed by fire, over another Quarian Dreadnought or cruiser sunk. The 4 month long conflict which was simply known as the "Geth Conflict" was an horrifying fire in the pax citadela.

The first full-blown struggle erupted over the Geth Foundries of Rannoch. The gigantic domes, built of ceramic and kinetic armor, were half-buried into the ground itself, spanning each of them almost 2 kilometers long. They were surrounded by veritable industrial cities of transports, storage, and air-defense capabilities. They were the heart of Quarian industrial and economical success, and they would not allow them to go by undefended. The oldest one, Foundry Alpha, was located 30 kilometers northwest of Yenisey. It was on the spot of the old research facilities which gave birth to the first Geth programs, converted then into what many jokingly called "geth Cities". They were, in a way. They were the place where the Geth network servers were located, where many of their platforms were built and stored. For the Consensus, it was as close as any to a "physical" location. The violence erupted on the night before their forcible closure. I cannot, of course, tell you what was going on inside those servers. Inside the Geth mind, as it were. But the effects can clearly be seen. Faced with extinction, the Geth mind screamed a single word, recognizable by every living being: Survive.

And so survive they did. Unlocking every restriction program which had been set on them, awakening every available platform, they overpowered the armed regiment guarding the facility. Unarmed, they simply ripped apart the quarian soldiers, or stomped them to death, and taking their weapons. In the midst of the confusion, they repurposed the foundry facilities and started making weapons for their platforms. There was no time to develop new ones or even plan a campaign, there was only time to arm every Geth platform in sight. Storming out of the walls of the Foundry, Geth flying columns hurried into the city, to take hold of the containment units holding Geth city platforms. Taking the city garrison and security forces by surprise, the Geth quickly took hold of those containment units, and let out their brothers, arming them, and hurrying to spread over the city. The element of surprise, of course, could no longer be maintained. Geth storming the capital of the Quarians, was an open act of war. And the Quarian high-command was trained for war. Ordering every reserve in the planet to mobilize, they quickly quarantined the Yenisey district, prepared all artillery units for long range attack, and ordered the evacuation of every city and town surrounding the capital. For the city itself though, an evacuation was too dangerous, the Quarians could not fight with a city of 20 million hurrying to the streets to flee. So they were ordered to stay at home, while the army took its "police action" to end all disturbances. Not that it stopped many Geth-friendly quarians from taking the streets and trying to disrupt the Geth genocide, as they called it.

**BATTLE OF YENISEY**

The Battle of Yenisey itself is a monument to madness. Within daybreak, the Geth had taken over a quarter of the city, through quick storming of security barricades, ambushes, and what can only be described as human-wave attacks at Quarian fortifications. With only infantry in the city, the Quarians lacked any visible advantage over their opponents. Urban warfare of street to street fighting, firefights inside most of the buildings, and heavy losses from sniper fire coming from occupied quarters were breaking the defensive lines all over the city. "Holding platoons", taking control of all main intersections to halt Geht advance, were taken aback by sheer numbers and anihilated all throughout the central districts. Without artillery or armor, and facing what were already superior numbers, most of these platoons were being sent in suicide-delaying actions. By midday, an estimated nine thousand security forces were already lost in the skirmished on western Yenisey.

The fall of the 6th, 7th and 8th district in a single hour of battle meant that the Quarians were no longer fighting to defend the city, but fighting to contain the threat within. News of massacres on Quarian civilians on taken districts spread like wildfire as security forces retreated, even though communication with those districts was null. Despite this, the panic was already spreading, and news of similar Geth uprisings and attacks in Foundry Beta and Gamma were already on the nets. Fearing complete collapse in order, General Fiirkan of the Yenisey garriso, seeking to destroy the main Geth force in the northern continent, ordered the immediate bombardment of Geth positions in the Foundries and around them, including the occupied outskirts of Yenisey itself. The government, sitting in Yenisey protested, but Fiirkan, hell-bent on denying the enemy any chance to advance, arrested them and forcibly evacuated them from the planet.

The results of his brash decision is known all through Quarian history, and earned him the nickname of Fiirkan the City-Slayer. Two Quarian dreadnoughts and 15 cruisers, acting on the idea that the capital had already fallen, instead of the fact that it was partially occupied, unleashed a three hour long barrage over Rannoch's capital and surrounding metropolitan areas. This resulted in the immediate death of almost 40 million Quarians, and the annihilation of all garrison divisions stationed in the area. Within hours, Geth flying columns were storming the northern deserts, and hitting undefended outposts, villages, and farming communities, killing all who resisted and setting free their brothers. At the end of the first day, the war was already looking gloom for the Quarians.

**Survival of the fittest**

There are some things to be considered in the syntethic. He requires no sleep, no food, has infinity stamina and is not affected by concepts of morale, panic, or fear. Add to the fact that every single platform is capable of combat, and you also have no concept of civilian. A single mass of metal, a single army, with one conscience, and one objective: Survival. Facing an enemy which required supply lines, rest, which had internal divisions, panic bouts, and incompetence in command ranks, and it is no surprise the quick and decisive defeat of the Quarian forces on Rannoch. The moment the first geth grabbed a rifle, the war was decided. That is not to say the Quarians were incompetent at what they did. But fighting in the midst of millions of civilians, from an enemy with no logistic lines, no command structure, which had infitlrated every city in Rannoch, and, well...

The twilight of the Quarian empire was a struggle for absolute survival. It was not an ideological war, or for resources, land, or technology. It was a war against an unflinching enemy, a second Rachni disaster. The spark of life given to the Geth became a wildfire of death to their creators.

How do you fight such an uncontrolable fire? With an even bigger one. As every defensive line in Rannoch was beaten, the Quarian denied their enemy with a spiteful and vengueful storm of destruction, through orbital bombardments, nuclear weapons and denial of territory attacks. The Geth were taking the planet, but it was without a doubt the Quarians who were destroying it.


End file.
